Go Fly a Kite, Please
by mymuseandi
Summary: Dean groaned and sank onto his bed. “All I wanted to do is to see the largest frying pan in the world. That’s all! A bit of downtime! Is that too much to ask?”


**Go Fly a Kite:** To tell someone to go away and leave them alone, often in a rude way.

This is totally CRACK. I wanted to post something before the season premiere starts.

I have no idea if there is the largest frying pan in the world currently residing in the US of A. Just making fiction.

Thanks to **Schelz** for the prompt - _Rehabilitate_, and **CalamityCrow** for the not-on-purpose idea.

Unbeta'd. Sorry for the mistakes in advance.

Disclaimer: Nope, sorry, I don't own them. They belong to that evil genius Kripke and the CW.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Sam stared at Dean. Dean stared at Sam. And then they both turned in tandem to stare at the Bohemian hippie, as Dean labeled him, who was currently busy trying to subtly push the white rabbits away from nipping at his heels.

Sam cleared his throat. "Are those…the rabbits?"

"Huh?" The man was startled at Sam's voice. "Oh, they are actually plot bunnies."

"Plot bunnies?" Dean choked out.

"Yeah." The hippie straightened up, evidently deciding to write the rabbits, er, bunnies, as a lost cause. "Roger Collins," he shook hands with both of them. "I'm a writer."

Evidently he thought this was explanation enough. But he must have noticed the blank faces gaping back at him and continued on. "Plot bunnies are like, ideas for a story. I'm currently trying to write a story, but I have a lot of other ideas in my head. I suppose these are like physical manifestations of them. They appeared yesterday, look rather cute, to tell you the truth. Irritating, but cute." He bent down to pat the nearest one.

"Right," Dean looked down at one doubtfully.

"And apart from the, er, bunnies, are there anything else that you want to add?" Dean admired his younger brother's ability to sound so serious and calm, even at this ridiculous situation. He couldn't talk for fear of cracking up.

"No." Collins shook his head. "I've only moved here about four months ago. If you want stories, you can try the older locals. They usually come together at the park outside the Town Hall."

"We'll do that. Thank you, Mr. Collins." Sam and Dean shook hands with him, and walked back towards the Impala behind them.

"No problem. Hopefully you have enough for your research. Hey, maybe these bunnies will disappear if I started writing down my ideas…" Sam could still hear him muttering to himself as they walked away with his brother beside him. Dean was trying his best not to snicker.

"Maybe it's like the wishing well and that old coin," Sam spoke out loud.

"Except that I don't think that Bohemian dude especially wished for his ideas to become real live furry rabbits." Dean reminded him.

"Yeah. Let's go back to the town hall. Maybe there's something we missed."

Dean grunted in agreement.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Dean slammed on the brakes so hard that Sam, who had closed his eyes just for a second, was flung forward and hit his head on the dashboard.

"Ow! Dean!"

"Holy shit, Sam. Look." Dean pointed to the opposite side of the road. Sam twisted his head around.

A teapot. A gigantic, honest-to-goodness old-fashioned, white with gold rims, Victorian teapot, was sitting in the middle of an empty field. And right above the teapot was a huge storm cloud, complete with rain and lightning and possibly even thunder, even though they hadn't heard anything yet.

As if on cue, thunder rumbled and two seconds later lightning flashed.

All Sam could think about was, _why wasn't there a lid on that thing, and how come we missed it when we were driving this way just now?_

"What the hell was that?" Sam could hear the awe in Dean's voice.

"A tempest in a teapot…" he murmured.

"Dude, this is getting more bizarre by the minute," Dean's grumblings still held his awe at the sight.

He couldn't keep his eyes away even as his older brother started the car and drove off.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Dean paced the length of the room, too agitated to stay still. They got back without encountering any more bizarre events. Sam was seated by the laptop, trying to find more clues to figure out what they were dealing with since their initial information wasn't enough.

"So, it's not a curse. You checked that Collins guy was clean, right?"

"Right, and yes, Dean, I've re-checked the others. The teen, ah, Fred Smith, the one who woke up with a cat on his tongue, everyone likes him, even though he doesn't talk much. And Deidre Ellis, she was caught literally red-handed when she took the money."

"And the ones from last week?"

"Well, no one knows how the cow, or more accurately, the bull, got into the florist shop and smashed all the vases, and the bed of roses appeared out from nowhere. All the witnesses say the same thing. One moment everything's fine, and the next you got some odd thing happening right in front of them."

Dean groaned and sank onto his bed. "All I wanted to do is to see the largest frying pan in the world. That's all! A bit of downtime! Is that too much to ask!?"

"Dean…"

"Don't you 'Dean' me! It's your fault! You're the one who wanted to come here. Not me."

"Because I thought that they would escalate, Dean!" Sam argued. "And why are we even looking for that? You can't steal it, Dean."

Dean was livid. "I wasn't going to steal it."

"So why the sudden fascination with giant-sized crockery?" Sam wanted to know.

His brother sighed, tired. "Look, I just want to do something different, okay? Something light, fun, something like just taking a road trip with my brother to see a dumb frying pan. Without the angels, the demons, and whatever else in between."

A rapid clinking sound coming from the front door caught their attention before Sam could answer. They exchanged a look, before Dean stood up and strode over to the window. He peeked through the curtains.

"Dude, it's raining."

"Yeah, and?"

"It's raining cats and dogs."

"WHAT?"

It was Sam's turn to peer outside. Yup, Dean's right. It was raining cats and dogs.

"Well, plastic toy cats and dogs, but still…" Dean trailed off.

"Huh."

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"After a full day of research, Sam had narrowed the cause of the craziness to two old ladies who had moved to the town last week, just before everything in town went to Hell. He also came up with the most possible conclusion to what they could be.

"Are you sure about this, Sam?" Dean asked for the third time.

"Pretty sure."

He glared at younger brother. "Considering that we are going to be accusing a couple of faeries of bewitching the place, I'm going to need more than 'pretty sure'."

"Okay, really pretty sure."

And that was that.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

They asked for directions and half hour later they were back at the field with the enormous teapot. The house was right beside it. The storm above it was still raging, but the rest of the sky was clear.

"Well, I now know how the Liliputs feel when they saw Gulliver."It was Dean's turn to gawp at the massive attention-grabber.

"Yeah," Sam nodded while knocking on the door of the house.

It swung opened two seconds later to reveal two grandmothers with knitting needles in their hands. They smiled at the boys.

"Oh, my! Sam and Dean Winchester! We didn't know you were around! To what do we owe the pleasure?" The shorter of the two had a lilting voice, and her face lighted up like a five-year-old on Christmas Day.

Both brothers stiffened. But before they could do anything, they were ushered into the house, and seated down onto a rose-patterned sofa in an equally flowery living room.

"Now," the taller one spoke, her voice deeper than her companion, but no less cheery, "we can't offer any food or drinks to you folks, so why not we just go straight to the point. Is it about the teapot?"

This was easier than they thought.

***SnSnSnSnSn***

The faeries were very apologetic. Apparently, they were on a 'retreat and rehabilitation' trip, and they didn't realize that their Magick was leaking all over town.

"We thought that was the only one," the shorter one, Dawn admitted, glancing towards the crazy monstrosity outside. "We don't need to go into town much, you see. The only time we went is last week, the day we came here. And we're leaving tomorrow, anyway, so we thought, what the heck."

"We'll call the Magick back, before we leave. Everything will return to normal, and hopefully, the town residents will forget about it," Frida, the other faerie, reassured them.

Both brothers nodded, but Sam was becoming more intrigued. "So, why did it choose to transform the idioms into corporeal displays?"

Frida smiled indulgently. "We don't know, Sam. The Magick has its own basis for choosing so. We are not privy to its reasons."

Dean had another question. "How do you know who we are?"

Both faeries exchanged a look, and giggled. Like little girls.

"You boys are famous in our world," Dawn grinned. "Handsome, young heroes saving the world. We have an amusement park named after you, you know. The Winchester World. Very popular with everyone."

"Could we have a picture taken with you boys?" Frida cut in eagerly.

"Sure." That seemed to be the only answer to that.

After posing for several photographs, Dean and Sam made to leave.

"Well, then," Dean walked towards the door, Sam following suit, "if there's nothing else, we'll get going."

"Thanks Dawn. Thanks, Frida." Sam's earnest eyes seemed to melt both of them, and sure enough, they were moving to hug him.

_Wow, _Dean thought_, they work on non-humans too. Might have to remember that. _

They turned to Dean, clearly expecting a hug as well.

_Oh well. What the heck.  
_

***SnSnSnSnSn***

"So now, can we get back to my quest to see the largest frying pan in the world?"

Sam grinned. "Lead on, Dean. I think we both deserve it after this case."

***SnSnSnSnSn***

Hey, you've reached the end! Congratulations! Thanks for reading!!


End file.
